My dog pulls hard on her leash
She wants so bad to be free
Free to run into traffic
Free to run and never look back
(A ten year old boy chasing her, tears streaming down his face, heartbreak in his voice as he calls her name)
She wants to be free to run after squirrels, after cars, after people, after other dogs, and most especially after the big tractor trailers that rumble down wellington road, pitching around the curve by our apartment, sounding like they are full of bones and scrap metal
My dog wants her body to be found by the side of the road with most of her broken and blood from every orifice coagulating on the pavement
Like that woman I found on pender street in vancouver one night around eleven pm
Between two parked cars
I thought she was a rolled up carpet someone had thrown in the gutter
But then I saw mini skirt and halter top and a mouth covered in sores
No response no breath no pulse
Me wondering if I should let her die or risk getting herpes
(and wondering what wondering about that said about me)
Her suddenly shuddering and gasping and rising like a corpse from the grave
No ambulance, no ambulance she said as she tried to run away
To run and never look back
To run into traffic
She wants so bad to be free
She pulls so hard on her leash